


Tomorrow's Pages

by Stormashke



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-20 23:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15544185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stormashke/pseuds/Stormashke
Summary: One day continually disappoints Miranda.  What will it take to break the pattern?





	Tomorrow's Pages

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks go out for XVnot15 and UltraStreep for this one. It's great to find old friends in a new place. You know what I mean! XV...dragons and phone calls for Xmas and Chanukah?
> 
> Many thanks to Misha20 for her fantastic beta skills and the time she took with this fic. Also, as always, to my Andy for her continued love and support. And for never setting my feet on fire despite how long it takes for me to get certain things! ;)
> 
> Thanks to AFey for giving me the pep talks I need when I need them. 
> 
> I dont own DWP or any of our girls...I wish I did...Just think of the fun we would all have!

**Tomorrow's Pages**

Miranda set her alarm for the following morning.  It was late and she was feeling anxious.  Well past 11:30 in the evening, she tried to determine why it was she had this ominous feeling.  She began to check off the things she knew needed to be completed before she would be ready to begin her work day in the morning.

The book was safely marked and awaiting its return to Runway.  Honestly, the incompetence was overwhelming!  She knew her staff was capable of greatness.  Was it really so much to ask that they at least _try_ to live up to her belief in them? 

She continued to catalogue her evening  to-do list…her clothing was set out for the next day.   The coffee made and set to go off at 6 a.m. sharp.  Well, her housekeeper saw to that, really.  What was it that was causing her to feel so unsettled?

Perhaps something with the girls?  A recital or an activity, or perhaps a school conference she had forgotten?  It wouldn't be the first time such a thing had happened.

Glancing at the calendar on her phone, she read through her following day's schedule.  An early evening?  Who had requested that?   She had no activities planned that she recalled and there was nothing for Dalton listed on the calendar.  Checking and cross-checking the dates, she inhaled sharply.

Suddenly, she realized just _why_ it was that she had this underlying feeling of dread in her stomach. 

She closed her eyes as the realization dawned on her.  Her birthday.  Every year it snuck up on her.  And every year she was…disappointed. 

Sighing, she settled into bed to try to get some sleep.  Inevitably, her thoughts led her down, in her mind’s eye,  to memories she tried not to dwell on.  As she slept, her mind swept back to previous times she had tried to celebrate her birthday...

___

Miranda rolled over and stretched an arm across the bed, encountering nothing but cold sheets.  Her eyes opening, she stared into the false darkness provided by the room-darkening curtains.  The light around the edges of the windows told her a different story.

It had to be at least 8 am. 

Unheard of!  Even on a Sunday. 

Sitting up, she drew the sheets around her naked form.  The room was slightly chilly and she usually woke cold on those mornings she woke alone.  This day was no exception.

Sighing, she contemplated her day.  A rare day off from the magazine and she had nothing special planned.  Maybe a chance just to _be_ for awhile.  That would be a gift.  No one demanding her attention, her time, her energy.

Perhaps she could read a book.  One of the classics...nothing fashion-related at all!  Or maybe one of those new mysteries that were her secret guilty pleasure.  It had been ages since she had sat, cup of coffee in hand, feet pulled up under her, a throw around her shoulders by the fireplace in the den, delving into someone else's world.

A world where Miranda Priestly didn't have to make all the decisions.  Silently, she offered a prayer of thanks for Greg.  He had insisted she take today off and as much as she had resisted, it felt like exactly what she had needed.

The door opened, putting an end to her thoughts.

"Happy Birthday, Mir!"  Greg strode into the room, maroon robe belted loosely at his hips...carrying a tray.

Smiling up at him, she accepted the tray and his lingering kiss, as he sat on the edge of their bed, "Thank you, dear.  Exactly what I was craving. How did you know?" 

Miranda knew what was expected of her.  If the coffee wasn't hot enough, she knew she would just have to deal with it.  There was bacon on the plate as well.  She had given up bacon before they ever married.  It wasn't the first time she had compromised.  It wouldn't be the last.

Oh well, it was the gesture that counted.  Or at least that's what she told herself.

Watching as he snagged the bacon from her plate, she nodded.  "So, that's why the bacon."  She teased as a shadow passed over his face at her tone of voice.

"Come on, Miranda, it's not a big deal.   You don't eat it anyway." Greg smiled winningly.  It was the smile that had drawn Miranda to him in the first place.  She loved her husband.  Of course she did.  If life wasn't the way she imagined it would be when they married two years ago...well...that was just a foolish woman's idealism and wishful thinking coming through. 

Life was hard and fairytales were stories for a reason.  She was happy...for the most part.  So what if he often forgot details about her work or trivialized the turn-around that Runway was making under her leadership. 

Couples didn't have to have everything in common, did they?  They didn't need to spend every waking moment together to be happy.  Right?

Ridiculous!

"That's not all," Greg stood up and stepped into the hall, returning with his wide smile still in place as he carried a bulky item under his arm.  "Tada!"

Miranda's eyes widened and her mouth drew into a line. 

Greg's enthusiasm could not be contained, "Now we can hit the links together." Proudly, he showed her the pink and black patterned golf bag and set of matching clubs, "Isn't it great?  You've been saying we need to spend more time together. I thought this would be perfect!"

Golf? Surely not. Why, the outfits alone would kill her!

 "Gregory, I don't play golf." She reminded him as he began withdrawing the clubs and taking practice swings in their bedroom.

"I can teach you.  And these clubs are real beauts.  Titanium...best on the market."  Holding out a hand, he drew Miranda from the bed.

"Darling, it's November.  We won't even be able to play until next May at the earliest." She tried again, getting discouraged at his obvious lack of listening.

"Well, there's the indoor putting greens at the club.  We can start there.  You'll have the best short game going .  I'll be the envy of the firm." Greg straightened up, a frown marring his handsome face, "Why are you fighting me on this?"

Feeling a fight brewing, Miranda tried to defuse the situation, "You're right, of course.  We can go to the club later today, if you like."  She mourned the loss of the quiet Sunday she had wanted, but it was worth it to see him smile like that. 

He really was very handsome. 

"That's my girl.  Can you be ready in an hour?  I told Bill and Marie we would meet them by noon."  Greg started from the room, not waiting for Miranda's answer.

Sitting back on the bed, Miranda tried to let go of her disappointment and hurt.  At least he had tried to consider her.  So what if it wasn't the day she had wanted?  She was an adult, not a child.

She would behave like said adult and move on from this day.  No matter how disappointing it was.

____

**_Six Years Later_ **

Miranda arrived home, early for once.  Her girls had wanted to have a celebratory dinner for her birthday.  How could she deny them? 

She could hear the giggling of her twins and the deeper answering chuckle of her ex-husband.  She and Greg had split three years prior, but had been able to remain amicable enough to raise their girls together. 

She wasn't necessarily surprised to hear him in the house as he had a key for emergencies.  She wished he had told her of his impending visit so her emotional walls could have been a higher.

"Mama, come see!" Caroline called, precocious at 4 years old, the little girl ran to her mother to be scooped up in a giggling hug.  Cassidy followed and soon Miranda held both girls in her arms.  They were getting to be quite the armful and she knew the days were limited where she would be able to effortlessly carry both girls at once.

Walking into the kitchen, she found Greg seated at the breakfast bar, "Hello, Greg.  What brings you by? Without calling, I might add?"  If her smile was a touch frosty, well, who could blame her?

Greg nodded, well acquainted with that look of dissatisfaction, "Happy Birthday, Miranda.  The girls wanted me to come by to give you their present.  They picked it out themselves.  Didn't you, girls?"

In response, the twins wiggled free of Miranda and with bright smiles on their face, each girl took a hand and drew Miranda forward.

"Mama, come see!"

Miranda was led around the kitchen island into the small mud room that led into the backyard.  There in metal crate was a puppy.  A rather large puppy.  A rather large, drooling puppy.

Stunned, Miranda tried to smile as her girls kept talking around her.

"I pickeded out her blankets and Cassidy pickeded her collar.  That way it was fair.  But Daddy said you should get to pick her name acuz she's your puppy."  Caro said earnestly, as Cassidy nodded so hard Miranda thought she might do permanent damage to her neck.

"She's a santa burnart, Mama," Cassidy supplied, sucking her thumb.  Cassidy, always the more sensitive of her girls, was unsure of her mother's reaction and it showed.  As anxiety flittered through young blue eyes, Miranda knelt to hug both of her girls, pleased to see the shadows lifting from her daughters' faces.

"Saint Bernard, Bobbsey." She corrected gently.  "Why don't we let her out of there.  She looks scared, don't you think?"

Cassidy nodded from her leg and Greg stepped over to unlatch the crate.  The animal, sensing freedom moved slowly forward, sniffing all the way.  She sniffed over the girls feet and both girls giggled and shrieked as a wet tongue licked their toes. 

Miranda watched, as the puppy made her way over to her own feet.  Big brown eyes stared up from the floor at her.  _Well, she was certainly cute enough_ , Miranda thought, just as the puppy squatted and urinated on her shoes.

Raising an eyebrow as the girls whooped with laughter, Miranda met Greg's eyes as he spoke, "Um, I'll replace those, Mir."

"Hmm, yes.  Girls, why don't you take Patricia into the den and let her get acquainted with the house.  I need to talk to your father." 

"Okay, Mama.  Happy birthday!"  Cassidy said, hugging Miranda's knees once again before racing after her sister, who was leading Patricia on an exploration of her new home.

Miranda turned to regard Greg.

"Patricia, really?  You named your dog after my girlfriend?"

Miranda shrugged an elegant shoulder, "It seemed fitting.  But seriously.  What possessed you?  Do you know how much time and effort goes into pets?  And a Saint Bernard?  Have you no concept of space?"

Greg stood to his full height, "Miranda, the girls wanted a dog.  They saw her and fell in love.  They wanted to do this for you.  You used to be an animal lover. So what's the big deal?  You have a nanny for the girls...you can just get one for the dog, too.  And I know you have enough used newsprint to deal with any accidents that occur."  He gestured vaguely to the study where her copies of Runway were stored.

Narrowing her eyes, she nodded, "Oh, don't worry.  Patricia will have a wonderful home here.  She will be quite well taken care of.  But I do think the time has come that I ask for the key to _my_ home back."  Glaring at him, she continued, "If you want to see the girls, I expect a phone call.  That's all."

Turning her back on him, she went to find her girls and the new addition to their family, "Girls, say goodbye to Daddy. He's going home now."

Miranda watched as the girls waved to their father before he scooped them up in turn for hugs.  Later that night, after the girls had fallen into an exhausted sleep, Miranda had taken Patricia out into the backyard where amazingly enough, she had actually done her business.

Now she was curled up in the den waiting for the Book to arrive.  A soft whimper drew her attention.  Looking down, she could see the puppy was trying to climb up into her lap.  Squat legs kept trying to gain purchase before Patricia would topple over.

Miranda would never admit this to anyone, but the puppy was adorable.  The idea that her girls had chosen her...precious.  Reaching down to scoop the puppy up into her lap, Miranda smirked, "I will tell you this, Patricia, and if you ever repeat it I'll blacklist you from all the dog parks in the city."  Miranda chuckled as a puppy tongue licked her face furiously, "I far prefer you to a set of golf clubs!"

With a puppy on her lap and a book in her hand, Miranda waited on the arrival of her last task of the evening.  And if that night a puppy slept in her bed...well, there was no one to be the wiser.  It was her birthday, after all.

____

**_Six Years later_ **

Miranda sat at the breakfast bar perusing the Sunday paper, steaming cup of coffee by her hand, Patricia at her feet.  She could hear the girls arguing over video games from their media room.  Was it really too much to ask for ten-year- olds to know the difference between inside and outside voices?

Just then, Stephen strode in from the foyer, returning from his morning jog.  Or so he would have Miranda believe.  Oh, he always returned sweaty enough, that was true.  But she had a hard time believing her husband of just over a year was that much of a jogging enthusiast.

Sighing and hiding her suspicions, she turned her cheek to accept his kiss, "Happy Birthday, Miranda.  I got you a little something."  With that he sat beside her, poured a cup of coffee from her carafe and handed over a nondescript envelope.

"Thank you, Darling.  You shouldn't have." Miranda said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.  Carefully, she opened the heavy envelope noting the expensive quality of the paper.  Opening the card her eyes grew wide.  A spa day at Blue?  "Stephen, how lovely!" Miranda enthused reaching over to kiss him sweetly.  "Just what I needed, but I thought they were booked?"

Stephen smirked, "Yeah well, I just mentioned your name and wouldn't you know it?  A spot opened up."

Miranda deflated at that.  Of course, she had known that using her name would open doors.  Which is why she'd not done it for herself.  Was she wrong to be slightly wounded that he had used her name to get this "gift" for her?  Was she being too sensitive? 

Probably.

"I hear they're really good.  Al had his wife go over and I swear, Miranda, they took 20 years off of her."  His eyes traveled over her face and she knew he was disappointed.  She hadn't put any make-up on.  She hadn't dressed up.  In fact, she was wearing old True Religion jeans and a simple cashmere v-neck top.  Even her heels were modest.  Three inches maximum.  "Wouldn't that be something?" he asked.

Miranda felt her heart drop into her shoes.  It was true, she was looking older.  She knew she didn't look near as good as she had even ten years ago.  But carrying twins to term in her 40s hadn't been kind to her body. 

She worked out three times a week with a trainer, watched what she ate and tried very hard to reverse the ravages of time on her body.  But apparently, it wasn't quite enough.

"Yes, that would be something indeed." Miranda answered, watching as Stephen rose, apparently happy with himself over providing the "perfect" gift to his wife.

Miranda regarded the creamy parchment envelope as if it were a poisonous snake.  And wasn't it?  Hadn't it just sunk its fangs deeply into her heart?

Hearing the girls in the other room, she rose, deposited her mug in the sink and went to find the cause of the ruckus.

Walking into the media room, she watched as her girls wrestled with wrapping paper.

"No, Caro!  You need to fold the flap this way or it won't make even corners!" Cassidy ordered, practically stamping her feet in frustration.

"Oh, come on!  Mom isn't going to care if it's perfect or not.  Let's just wrap it so we can give it to her already!" Caroline answered, taping down the last corner as her sister rolled her eyes.

Miranda felt her heart lift as she watched her girls a moment longer before speaking, "What is going on here?"

Both girls jumped to their feet to try to hide the awkwardly shaped package, "Nothing, Mom.  Everything's great. Right Cass?"

"Oh yeah, nothing wrong here.  Just, you know, sister stuff." Cassidy answered.

Miranda pinched the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes, "Stuff, Cassidy?  What are they teaching you at that school of yours?  Surely, you can do better than 'stuff.'"

Cassidy huffed, "Sorry, Mom."  With a look at her twin, the pair stepped aside before speaking in unison, "Happy Birthday, Mom!"

Touched by the gesture, Miranda walked into the room.  "What did you do, Bobbseys?"

Guided to her seat on the loveseat, Miranda accepted the awkward package.  "We made this for you at school.  We spent a whole month of art classes on it!"

Miranda opened the package to reveal a flat clay plaque about the size of a magazine.  At the top, the word "Runway" in squished child-like letters and underneath, obviously painted with love and affection if not a great deal of skill, was a picture of Miranda. S-shaped forelock and all.  Well, at least they had been generous around her nose, Miranda thought.

Touched, she looked up at her girls for an explanation.

"You're much prettier than the ladies on the front cover every month.  So, we thought you should know that."

Miranda gathered her girls into a hug and held both of them tightly for a moment, as the lump in her throat made it hard to speak.  After a time, she drew back and smiled at the girls, "It's the best birthday gift I've ever received. "  Standing now, she held her hand out to Cassidy as Caroline hugged her waist.  "Let's go to my study.  I have the perfect place for this."

"Mama," Caroline asked from her side, her voice small and uncertain, "Are you sure you aren't disappointed?  We know what Stephen got you and we know Dad made that donation to the MSPCA for you.  He does that every year..."

Stopping in her tracks, stooping down to be at eye level with her girls she answered, "It's the most perfect gift I could ever have asked for, Bobbsey.  Now, you must believe me because you know I never say anything I don't mean.  Correct?" She asked, a true smile lighting her face.

Both girls peered at her before twin smiles broke out on their faces, "Now come, I have the perfect spot on my desk for this."

Later that evening, as Stephen lay asleep with his back to her in bed, she contemplated the day.  She had placed the plaque in a place of honor on her desk where she would see it every time she sat down.  Her girls found her beautiful enough to be on a Runway cover.  She had to smile at the warm feeling in her chest.  She had meant what she said to her girls.  It was a beautiful, thoughtful gift and it let her know she could be proud of the children she was raising.

Stephen's gift she had decided to donate to a local woman's shelter.  They could auction it off and raise money for a worthy cause.  He would never know the difference and it would benefit a cause close to her heart.

As she felt sleep begin to claim her, she thought that perhaps it hadn't been such a bad birthday after all.

___

**_Three Years Later_ **

Unsettled from dreams that were really memories, Miranda woke before her alarm.  She could feel the heaviness of the day descend on her.  Her rest had not exactly been broken, but it was definitely rife with vivid images.  Greg’s face when she named Patricia.  Her girls providing her with their plaque, which to this day held a place of pride on her desk.  Stephen’s trite dismissal. 

 She could feel it all as if it were yesterday.  Slowly, she felt the dread begin to fill her again.

Enough of that, she decided, snapping herself out of it.  This day would be different, if only for whom she was sharing it with. 

Today would be what she and her family made of it.  No matter what, she would get through it as she had always done in the past.   

Rising, she decided to meet this day head-on.  After all, it was only one day a year.  Hadn't she been taught recently that she could do anything?

____

Much later that day, Miranda rushed in the door to be greeted by 13-year-old miniature versions of herself. 

"If you're going to be late, Mom, you really should call." Caro said, smirking as she stood helping her mother out of her coat.

"Yes, do you know what I've been thinking for the last 30 minutes?  You could have been in a ditch somewhere!"  Cassidy teased, taking her mother's bag.

"Alright girls, leave your mom be.  Let her get in the door!  Cass, go check on the cupcakes.  And Caro, set the table, please."

Miranda's blue eyes lit up as she watched her girls race off.   Looking up to meet deep chocolate brown eyes, Miranda opened her hands in apology, "Darling, I am sorry.  Nigel had a last-minute crisis locating the correct layout for Giselle's girls. I really need to-"

"Enough, Miranda," Andy spoke, cutting off the editor with gentle kiss.  "You're home now. It's ok.  It gave the girls and I time to put the finishing touches on your dinner.  Come sit."

Miranda followed Andréa into the kitchen, where she was promptly handed a glass of wine by Cassidy.

"Don't worry Mom, Andy poured it.  I didn't even steal a sip," Cassidy grinned cheekily.

"You better not have," Andréa growled, "Little pixie," she said with affection.

Miranda watched as her lover interacted with her girls.  They had been together for only 8 months, but it felt like far longer.  She could not imagine her days without this intelligent, witty woman by her side.  And here it was again.  Her birthday, and for once...she wasn't dreading it.  If only because of Andréa.

Andréa had not battered her about what she wanted to do for the day.  She had asked if there was anything special Miranda wanted.  For once, Miranda had felt she could answer honestly.

"Just you and my girls." She had responded, pleased when the journalist had nodded thoughtfully and let the matter drop.  That was the last she had heard about it.

"Ok, Miranda, would you sit, please?  The girls and I cooked for you." Andy said, proudly serving their creation of steak tips, rice pilaf and a Caesar salad."  Andy winked at her, as the girls served up the salad.

"Thank you. This looks wonderful.  What else did you do today?" Miranda asked as her family settled in to a nice dinner.  She learned all about the twins' science project and the fact that Cassidy wanted to be in the summer musical while Caroline wanted to be in the year book club.

She listened as Andréa talked about her latest article on the 9/11 memorial.  She herself spoke at length, telling the more amusing stories of Emily and Nigel, and the latest mishaps and disasters that made up her day.

"Right, time for dessert. Ready, girls?" Andréa asked, rising and retrieving individual cupcakes from their hiding place. "I'll start...Happy birthday to you."

Miranda nearly choked on her wine as Andréa and the girls sang to her, finishing with a truly discordant "Happy Birthday Dear Mom/Miranda, Happy Birthday to you."  At which point, they set out an array of cupcakes in different colors that spelled out:

We Luv U

Miranda could hardly keep a straight face as Andréa leaned down to whisper, "I know, just go with it.  They really, really wanted to sing to you.  Be a good sport and I'll reward you later."  She shuddered as Andréa scraped her teeth over the shell of Miranda's ear. 

Smirking as Andy moved  to the other side of the kitchen, Miranda spoke, "Thank you very much, girls.  Did you make the cupcakes?  They're lovely.  And the colors are beautiful."

She knew she guessed right when both of the girls beamed at her. 

"Yeah Mom, Andy helped though, a lot.  Do you like them?" Caroline asked anxiously.

"Of course I do, Bobbsey.  They're lovely.  But come, let's all have one."  Miranda doled out the cupcakes, keeping the blue one for herself, with a wink at Andréa, who grinned in response.

Later, after the last of the cupcakes were demolished and the kitchen was set to rights, Miranda sat with her Andréa by the fire in the den.  The girls had gone upstairs, pleased that their gift of dinner and dessert had been so well-received.

Miranda leaned against the younger woman, as she ran her fingers through her hair, gently massaging her temples.

"Your face when we started singing," Andréa chuckled. "That was priceless.  I wish I had a camera. "

Miranda growled teasingly, "No, you don't.  Believe me.  But it was rather cute of them.  I do not believe they've ever sung Happy Birthday to me before"  she mused, aware of Patricia seating herself at her feet.

"Well, they were very insistent.  They chose the meal too, you know.  They just told me what they wanted to make and I helped them find the recipes."  Andréa disentangled  herself from Miranda, rising and heading towards the closet in the foyer.

"Get back here this instant.  You aren't leaving, are you?"  Miranda was slightly panicked.  The evening had been so wonderful.  She didn't want Andréa to leave.

Andy returned, bearing an elegantly wrapped gift in hunter green paper with a gold bow, "Of course I'm not leaving.  I promised you compensation for embarrassing birthday singing, remember?"  Andy settled back down on the loveseat with Miranda, "I had to get my gift for you."  Handing it over, Andy kissed Miranda's cheek .

Miranda felt the blood drain from her face.  She had thought Andréa had understood.  She'd hoped she realized...all Miranda wanted, she'd already received.  She didn't need the young woman to give her things.  She was old enough to get what she wanted for herself.  All she wanted was to be able to spend time with the ones she loved and have them love her.

Steeling herself at the look of anticipation in the dark eyes she adored, Miranda carefully opened the paper.  She lifted out a book with a distressed leather cover.  In gold embossing on the front cover it read:

Yesterday is Written, But Tomorrow Awaits...

Miranda opened the first page and gasped.  Photographs.  Of her.  Of Greg.  Her girls.  Patricia.  Nigel.  Each page a different memory.  Each one a different story.  She became aware that Andréa was speaking.

"I tried to think of something you couldn't or wouldn't give yourself.  So, I contacted Greg and he gave me the photos at the front of the book.  I really love the black and white shot of you pregnant.  How far along were you?"

Miranda flipped the page to photo in question, "Six months and as big as a house, but Greg would not stop taking pictures. He insisted I was glowing."

Andy nodded, "He was right.  When I told him what I wanted to do he insisted I use that shot.  You're so beautiful, Miranda." Andréa nodded to the picture, "Then and now."

Glancing up from the photo, Miranda could see nothing but sincerity in her lover's eyes.  Looking back down, she laughed at pictures of the girls and her playing on the floor of the kitchen.  Further along in the book was a picture of Miranda taken by Greg while she played fetch with Patricia as a puppy.  Continuing along there were many pictures of her and Nigel as they worked their way up the ladder in Runway together.

Tapping one shot, she spoke, "Page Six would pay a fortune for this shot alone.  Look at me.  Hair disheveled, dirt on my face.  I'm wearing sneakers, for God's sake!"

Andy laughed outright, "Nigel told me to say that one was from him especially.  That doesn't look like Elias-Clarke.  Where are you both?"

Miranda smirked, "Oh, it's Elias-Clarke, but it's the basement.  Runway wasn't always a top-floor publication.  When I took over, I told them we needed more space.  They told me the only place they had for more room was the basement.  I took the basement, and two years later had the distinct pleasure of moving up to the 14th floor as the number one Elias-Clarke publication."

Andy leaned her head against Miranda's shoulder, content to listen, as Miranda looked through the album.  Finally, she got to the final pages.  Here, there were three or four candid shots of Miranda and Andy, taken by the girls or by Nigel. 

A shot of them on the loveseat, looking for all the world like the two most comfortable people on the planet.  In another shot, they were in the kitchen, lingering over breakfast.  That one was courtesy of Caroline and her cell phone.  The final one was of Miranda lounging in her bed, silver robe on, hair mussed with a very well-satisfied look on her face.

That one, Andy had taken herself.

Realizing that more than half the book remained blank, Miranda looked up in confusion, "Darling?" she asked.

Andy nodded, hugging Miranda to her, "Those pages are for our tomorrows together, Miranda."

___

Later that evening, as Andréa lay exhausted in her arms, Miranda thought back over her day.  She had come to dread this day every year.  She had learned that her wants and desires for the day were secondary to those of the people around her.

But this year, this year not only had she gotten exactly what she asked for...she received something she never even knew she needed.  She only hoped she could be worthy to fill those blank pages with memories special enough to equal the way her Andréa had made her feel today.

As she slipped off into sleep, she resolved she would write her tomorrows with Andréa, her girls, and her true friends by her side.

 After all these years, a truly happy birthday to her.

 


End file.
